


Small Gifts

by Andian



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Blackmail, Humiliation, Implied Relationships, M/M, Obsession, Oral Sex, Sexual Coercion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-13
Updated: 2014-02-13
Packaged: 2018-01-12 04:09:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1181706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Andian/pseuds/Andian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes you have to do things you don't want to when trying to protect those you love. And sometimes those things could be used to make other people do things they don't want to. It was a vicious circle and Magnussen loved it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Small Gifts

**Author's Note:**

> Set during "His Last Vow" after Sherlock and John find out about Magnussen's mind palace.

It was all about wanting Mycroft. Naturally. He was the reason for this little exercise after all. The reason for letting those two into his sanctuary. Reviling the secret he had so long kept hidden inside his mind. Keeping Sherlock here as a few of his men lead John away. 

It was all about having leverage on a man who could upset the balance of current global politics with a few carefully placed calls.  
Not that he wanted that, naturally. He was a businessman after all. Chaos was only advisable if there was some way to make profit of it. 

Still chaos was good. Chaos was nice. Chaos caused troubled minds, made for panicked looks as they desperately searched for an exit, a way out, where there was  
none.

Like Sherlock was currently doing. 

One had to look closer though, see behind the look, kept carefully blank. His cheeks were red, stretched wide around his cock and while Magnussen did not really care for the physical side of this, he did rather enjoy the defiance in those eyes slowly dimming with every muffled gasp, every choke as he forced himself deep into Sherlock's throat.

He was obviously inexperienced either trying to take in too much or not enough, so eager, so fearful that Magnussen would make true on his threats.

“I wonder what John would say if he could see you like this.”

Sherlock managed to hold back the flinch but Magnussen saw his fingernails boring into his palm, no doubt leaving marks. Sadly not enough though to actually break skin.

Magnussen reached out and started slowly stroking over Sherlock's cheek, feeling the movement of his cock as he slowly pushed in and out of Sherlock's mouth.  
If there was anything other to this than the way Sherlock now finally did break eye contact and lowered his glance to Magnussen's perfectly polished shoes he'd might have enjoyed this. The physical reaction was there, no doubt, the wetness of Sherlock's mouth, the way his tongue moved against his cock whenever he had pulled out enough that Sherlock could do more than just trying to relax his throat and taking it.  
But the look in Sherlock's eyes was so much more delicious than any of it. 

“Would you like me to go and get him?”

He got the reaction he wanted, Sherlock abruptly looking back up at him again, the red of his face now not just caused by involuntary arousal anymore but rather by shame. Humiliation.  
Magnussen allowed himself a smile as he continued stroking Sherlock's cheek.

“Doing this for him is okay, but him knowing is not?”

It was not even mockery, at least not for him. He sometimes didn't understand them, any of them, with their small bodies and their even smaller minds so completely controlled by compassion, affections, their own humanity a cage holding them back.

He had thought that Mycroft was different. Free from this errors caused by chemicals reactions and overeager electrons. Thought that Mycroft understood. 

He had been wrong. Naturally. Everybody had pressure points. And it was good that he had found Mycroft's, that his was something that could be used so easily, that could be destroyed so nicely, that tensed up so deliciously as Magnussen came with one last lazy push.

“Swallow.”

Obeyed so prettily.  
He pulled out of Sherlock's mouth, left the man to gasp desperately for air, as he tucked himself in.  
Then he turned to his right and looked into the camera, standing there

“What do we say Sherlock?” he asked without turning to the man.

“Thank you for not hurting John.” 

Blank voice, as blank as his eyes probably. Perfect for a man who hold the security of the free world not only in his laptop but also in his hands.  
Magnussen's smile widened.

“And now Mycroft, you're going to thank me for not hurting your brother.”  
This was all about getting Mycroft after all. One way or another.


End file.
